Ascension Read online

  Ryker frowned. “In vain? Every death, human or non, is avenged. This is war. People will die, but it is never in vain.”

  Kyana wanted to laugh at his delusional statement. Was he so protected, so safe here Below, that he had no clue what was happening Above? She might have bought into his beautiful declaration if these people had lived full lives instead of being mowed down like needless trash.

  “Is that something Daddy taught you?”

  Ryker stiffened and stepped away from the alluring scent of Kyana’s hair. His momentary pleasure over seeing her again died right along with the next thread Atropos snipped.

  “Nice to see you haven’t lost your ability to cut straight to someone’s sore spot,” he muttered.

  “Mm, sorry.” Kyana stared straight ahead, her profile like chiseled, soft stone in the dim light of the cave. “Must be terribly hard having Ares as a father. What with his being able to give you your every heart’s desire and all.”

  Ryker clenched his teeth so hard his jaw ached. Artemis stabbed them both with a glare that forced him to hold his tongue, when all he’d wanted to do was throw Kyana’s own heritage back in her face. She, of all people, should know that being born from a powerful, wealthy father didn’t guarantee unconditional love. He was pretty sure if he brought up her dear daddy, blood would be spilled.

  “Amanda Gray.” Atropos cradled another dingy, yellow thread in her hand, glanced sorrowfully up at her sisters, and dropped it into the cauldron that now fumed with black smoke.

  Ryker quieted his anger and focused on the miracle he was witnessing. This was a ceremony he’d rarely been allowed to watch, and the thought of those clipped souls finding their way to their eternal rest always filled him with awe. As Ares’s son, he’d grown into the position of general in the God of War’s army of sentinels. He brought death, delivered unto his enemies as easily as he breathed. Knowing that they’d be well taken care of once his job was done had made it easier to do. The good deserved eternal bliss. The bad . . . they deserved the eternal damnation awaiting them.

  “Jonathan Tidwell.” Another dirty thread slipped into the pot.

  Clotho sniffed.

  Lachesis wailed. “So sad. So, so sad.”

  Atropos cleared her throat and eased her old, yet beautiful body onto the stone bench behind her. “We’ve no time to mourn. We must find new replacements for Asclepius and Dione. Their power is all but faded now, and Asclepius would be a large boon to our war efforts.”

  “These were their Chosen?” Ryker asked, scratching his jaw. That wasn’t good. Asclepius was a huge benefit, with her overseeing healing and medicine. Who would take charge over the Mystic and Witch Healers now? And Dione . . . shit. She was Aphrodite’s mother and quite the diva. When she found out her Chosen had died . . . there was going to be hell to pay.

  “Yes, as well as others’. All of them were Chosen.”

  “I was meant to train Nadine,” Clotho said. “We must find a replacement for her before the others. We must have three strong Moerae again. It is priority!”

  “You think you hold more priority than the gods?” Artemis’s voice caused the cauldron to bubble over.

  Atropos glared at Artemis over the cauldron, her black hair blending in with the black smoke. “If your replacement dies, who is going to create a new one? No one, save for us. There will be no more Goddess of the Hunt.” She turned her loving gaze onto Clotho. “We cannot randomly grab someone and make them one of us,” she said softly. “Their blood must be special. You know this better than any.”

  Lachesis looked to Clotho. “We know every soul ever born. We’ll find two more capable of taking our places and stop our entire world from crumbling around our ears.”

  “You should worry about foreseeing more deaths, not about saving your own collective asses,” Kyana said.

  Ryker glared at her. Her lack of respect for the gods and Fates in general pissed him off. Even as much as he loathed Ares, Ryker showed him respect. He knew their worth, knew what the world would be without each and every god to oversee it.

  “It’s time the three of you accepted the facts,” Kyana continued. “You are no longer all-knowing.”

  Ryker snapped his attention to Artemis. “Maybe we should take our meeting elsewhere and allow the Moerae peace while they see to their task.”

  Kyana stepped back and dug her heel into his sandaled foot. Ryker grunted but didn’t step away, letting her have her fun while she still could. The minute she found out why Artemis had summoned her, her day was going to turn very, very bad.

  Atropos leveled her black eyes on Kyana. Kyana kept her head high, her gaze on the Fate.

  “She doesn’t bother us,” Atropos said. “She is easily forgotten.”

  If only. Ryker had been trying to forget Kyana for ten years and had failed miserably. She was like a permanent imprint in his mind, a ghostly loop that played over and over again, unwilling to go into the light.

  As though silently saying that Atropos was just as easily dismissed, Kyana ignored her and spoke to the one goddess Ryker had ever heard her address in a respectful tone.

  “Why did you call for me, Artemis?”

  Artemis’s gaze drifted between Ryker and Kyana. This was about to get very good for Ryker, and very upsetting for Kyana. He wished he had popcorn for the show.

  “We need to talk about the key you’ve been sent after.”

  “The Fates told me what I was after. I’ll find it.”

  Ryker almost chuckled at the certainty in her voice. Sure, Kyana was known for her ability to find people others had given up on, but the object she was being sent after possessed no pheromones. She’d never find it alone.

  The goddess lifted a satchel from her shoulder and dug through it. She pulled out a wooden box and opened it, the old hinges creaking like a century-old coffin. Inside, on a bed of royal purple velvet, lay a golden pentagram she’d already shown Ryker.

  “Does this look familiar?” Artemis asked Kyana, trailing a slender finger over the etched center of the gold.

  Ryker watched to see Kyana’s reaction. As he expected, disappointment darkened her brown eyes to almost black. Proof, as if he’d needed it, that his warning to Artemis was true—that Kyana was after glory, which made her very dangerous on this mission.

  The only thing that kept Ryker from making the ultimatum that he’d work with a different tracer or Artemis could find someone else to do his job was the fact that it would rub Kyana raw knowing she had no choice but to work with him. He’d like to see her try to avoid him now.

  “Is that the key?”

  Artemis smiled. “It’s the sister key.” She carefully set the box on the altar. “This is the first time Zeus has allowed it to leave his possession, but given our dire need, I convinced him you would benefit from seeing it. Wise to know exactly what you’re looking for before looking.”

  Kyana visibly perked up and stepped closer to the altar. “What does this one open?”

  “Olympus. It’s how we’ve kept it locked to outsiders all these years.”

  “If everyone knew there was a key to Beyond, why didn’t anyone look for one Below?”

  As Kyana bent to examine the key, Ryker tried not to allow his gaze to fall to the nicely shaped ass smoothed out with black leather, but his eyes were defiant. Kyana’s pale arms hung at her side, and he knew if he reached out and touched them, they’d be like ice beneath his fingers. Once, he’d offered her his warmth, and she’d taken it eagerly. But it hadn’t been enough for her. She’d taken his refusal to have sex with her personally, and the battle lines between them had been clearly drawn.

  He wasn’t stupid. He knew why the pull to her was so strong. She was half Lychen, and that half of her needed to mate for life. He’d gravitated to that need immediately, felt right away that he was meant to be that mate for her. But Kyana was also half Vampyre, and that half kept him at a distance. While Lychen mated for life, Vampyre were ridiculously polyamorous. He knew which half Kyana had emb
raced, but if he’d taken her as she’d wanted him to, he would never have found satisfaction again with another.

  Shaking himself out of his stupor, he squeezed his eyes shut and exhaled. This was never going to work. Ares should find someone else to work the sentinel post alongside Kyana. If Ryker remained on the job, he’d be insane before it was over.

  Kyana leaned against the far wall of the cave, trying to take in everything Artemis was saying, but so much of what was being told was pissing her off. How could these gods and goddesses, who hated being thought of as fictional myths, ever allow themselves to disbelieve anything? Especially when it might involve unleashing Hell on Earth? If they’d taken any of the legends about the key seriously, the world wouldn’t be in such a chaotic state right now.

  “We see now how foolish we were not to have assumed Cronos would have made a similar key for the Underworld,” Artemis said. “Even Hades was never told. The lock wasn’t found until after the key had been turned. Our only blessing is that Cronos didn’t have time to snatch this one as well when he was exiled.”

  Which brought up a damned fine point. Unless Cronos had known his exile was coming, how had he known to grab the key in the first place? Kyana glanced at the Sisters, then back to Artemis, going out of her way to completely ignore Ryker looming beside her.

  Artemis raised an eyebrow. “You have questions you’re afraid to ask in front of them?”

  This time she looked at Ryker before focusing on Artemis again. “Perhaps we should have this meeting in private.”

  “What is said between us will not leave this cave.”

  “All right, then. Are you sure Cronos took the key with him?”

  “What are you suggesting?”

  She didn’t know which sister had asked the question, and didn’t take her gaze off Artemis to find out.

  Artemis raised her hand for silence. “Let her talk. At this point, it’s safe to say we can’t rule out anything.”

  “Or anyone,” Kyana mumbled.

  How the hell did she find a key no one knew existed, who took it, or who might have it now? She hunted people, or at least beings with scents. She was not a freaking metal detector. She paced the cave, allowing her mind to run through several possible scenarios. First option, Cronos took the key, he died, someone found it and used it. Didn’t really make sense to her since no one knew of the bloody thing.

  Second option, Cronos made a friend, told him about the key before he died, and the new friend used it. Didn’t fit either. Even the need for revenge wasn’t enough to make a lunatic think opening Tartarus was a good idea. Kyana rolled her neck, letting the bones crack and ease the tension. Third option made her skin itch.

  “Where was Cronos sent? Was anyone ever seen with him? Inhabitants of the island maybe?”

  Artemis shook her head. “Informants were sent to check on him at intervals until his death was reported. They never spoke of seeing anyone else.”

  “What are you thinking?” Ryker’s voice flitted over Kyana’s ear and made her head pound. Why the hell was he here anyway? She shot him a glare and rolled the possible scenarios over and over in her mind.

  The itch beneath her skin intensified. Someone had warned Cronos of his pending exile, allowing him time to seize the key to Tartarus. That meant Cronos had loyal followers at the time. Followers who could have passed down the truth about that key to later generations.

  But why open Tartarus? What did anyone hope to gain by unleashing a mass of Dark Breeds on the humans? The conversation between the Fates rang in Kyana’s mind. The Chosen were being assassinated.

  She looked to Clotho. “Three states in America were untouched by the demons that broke out,” she continued. “Nebraska, New Mexico, and Rhode Island. Why?”

  Clotho’s wide eyes looked ready to pop from her head. “Because—”

  “Because there were no Chosen on your list in those areas.” Satisfied that her accusation was finally being taken seriously, Kyana smiled. “Someone is trying to stop us from replacing all of you. Opening Tartarus was just a distraction. People are dying, yes, but your Chosen are being picked off with precision that can’t be coincidental. The breakout and the murders are tied together. I’m positive.”

  Ryker cleared his throat. “The only way that’s possible is if the person who opened Hell also came here and saw the names of the Chosen.”

  Even though she was pleased someone seemed to understand her, she was slightly irritated that it had been Ryker.

  “No one can get into this cave without our knowledge,” Clotho said.

  “No. No one could get into your cave. Since your powers have begun to wane, it’s not entirely impossible anymore.”

  “They have to be wrong,” Atropos insisted. “Artemis, tell them they’re wrong.”

  Kyana would have called the old Fate a fool, but waited to see what Artemis would do. Much to Kyana’s relief, Artemis nodded in agreement. “She’s right. We must find out where the key is, and which of our trusted Order members took it.”

  Artemis looked from Kyana to Ryker and back again. “And you two are going to have to work together to find both.”

  Chapter Three

  Oh hell no. No no no no no. Kyana wouldn’t work with Ryker. He was arrogant, stuffy, and prone to giving orders she wasn’t prone to taking.

  The already tiny cave suddenly felt smothering. “Give me any details you have. I’ll keep you posted on my progress, but I’m not working with him.”

  “I chose you for this task, Kyana.” Artemis narrowed her authoritative gaze. “Don’t make me regret it. This is not merely a task for a tracer.” Artemis picked up her leashes. “Alone, you both fail. Together, the world stands a chance at survival. You’ll find the key, and he’ll apprehend our traitor.”

  So Artemis had already suspected a traitor. Why else would she have already summoned the aid of a sentinel general like Ryker? They were afraid that Kyana would find the key and stash it inside the head of the person responsible. Ryker, on the other hand, would remain as collected as ever and bring him in for questioning.

  Nice to know my reputation is intact.

  “Find me just after sunset and I’ll make certain you have everything you need to get to the penal isle where Cronos was exiled,” Artemis said as she prepared to leave. “I want you on your way as soon as possible, and I think you’ll agree your search should begin there.”

  As she watched Artemis walk away, anger warmed Kyana’s normally icy skin. She didn’t know what pissed her off more—that Artie didn’t trust her to do the job alone, or that she believed Ryker was the best choice for a partner.

  “I can go alone! I won’t go off half-cocked!” she shouted at Artemis’s back. The goddess didn’t even turn around, certain she’d be obeyed without question.

  With more bite in her voice than she’d intended, Kyana snapped her gaze back to the Fates. “No more lists. Whatever replacements you choose, find another way to give the names to the tracers. We can’t chance having more of their identities discovered before we can bring them in.”

  Clotho scowled. “We must create the lists. We mark the names for their positions. It is magic, Kyana. Without scribing their names on that parchment and marking them appropriately, there are no Chosen.” She pointed at the familiar mark beside Jordan Faye’s name on their current list. “That mark you saw on Jordan’s breast is this mark. The moment I branded the parchment, her body became branded as well. Do you see?”

  Yeah, she saw all right. She saw more opportunities for their traitor to get his or her hands on more names. Saw more blood spilled. More threads clipped. Even Artemis’s tracers had never seen that list before. Each tracer was given four or five names for each night of hunting, and that was it. No one but the Fates knew the list in its entirety. Well, no one except the Fates and the traitor, that was.

  “Then I suggest this time you don’t let the damned list out of your sight for a second. Stick it up your ass if you have to, but our traitor only has the n
ames on that first list. Unless you screw it up, the new Chosen should remain safe until we can find them.”

  Kyana marched to the exit, banging shoulders with Ryker in an effort to pass him. She shoved harder than necessary. “I’m not working with you.”

  “Hey, I’m not exactly jumping for joy right now. We don’t have a choice.”

  As Kyana stomped down the tunnel that led back to the river, Ryker met her stride for stride. “Tell them no. At least, tell them to put someone else on the job.”

  Great. The ferry was gone. She’d have to wait for it to return from toting Artemis out of the cave system. More time with Ryker. Yippee.

  “How ’bout you tell them to find a new tracer?”

  “Because I’m the best.”

  “Ditto.” Ryker grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him. “The faster we get this job done, the faster you can run and hide from me again. You should try to be a little more cooperative.”

  “And you should try cyanide.” She glared daggers at him, wishing they were real and at this moment making him bleed. “I never hid from you. I hide from no one.”

  She’d left because her assignment in the Everglades had been complete. Leaving Ryker behind had only been a bonus. Sure, she hadn’t gone out of her way to run into him since she’d thrown herself at him like a bitch in heat. But that wasn’t the point.

  “And,” she said, the need to ooze out the venom inside her nearly crippling her, “for the record, you’re not the best. You’re just a product of nepotism. If your daddy wasn’t the God of War, you wouldn’t even be here—”

  “Enough.” He straightened, suddenly looking too tall and broad for her comfort. Kyana found herself fascinated with the swirling silver in his eyes and the way the gray gave way to blood red. Ryker hissed. “Don’t underestimate me, Kyana.”

  “Back atcha, Ryker.”

  Charon’s ferry putt-putted over the black, glassy river, coming to a bouncy stop at the dock.

  Without touching Kyana, Ryker managed to swoop around her and board the ferry. “Come or don’t come, Kyana. But I have a job to do, and I’m not waiting for you to get your head out of your ass long enough to do it with me.”